


but if i say i’ll see you ‘til the end (will you promise to take my hand?)

by chemicalpixie



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/F, F/M, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Nate and Sophie's Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 00:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11657511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalpixie/pseuds/chemicalpixie
Summary: “and, again, things are different now. or — not so different. they’re the way they used to be, when they started off. eliot is standoffish and grouchy, and he won’t even let parker eat olives straight from the jar when he’s finishing up the  hors d'oeuvres, like he usually does, and he pushes her off when she’s hugging him, and she doesn’t like it.”or; eliot is acting different, and parker doesn't like it.





	but if i say i’ll see you ‘til the end (will you promise to take my hand?)

**Author's Note:**

> i just finished leverage today and can you believe. “til my dying day.” they died hand in hand. i want to cry. they're in love. that was a fantastic finale to the story, though i do wish they'd gotten a s6, but i think it wrapped everything up as it was. nonetheless, i just had to write something for my favorite canon ot3, so here this is. also, parker's love of olives comes from my own love of black olives. they're great.
> 
> the title comes from “promise” by lauren marsh, which for some reason wormed its way into my head as a song about the three of them. also for consideration about the three of them is “blow your mind” by dua lipa (and during the angsty part of this fic christian kane's “thinking of you” fits the mood quite well imo). i hope you enjoy, and if you do, please be sure to kudos and comment! it means a lot!

it’s at nate and sophie's wedding that parker notices how standoffish eliot has been around her. she doesn’t like it. the wedding is six months after nate and sophie left the crew to settle down in a small cottage in the woodlands of france. when eliot had expressed his dislike of the fact that they were so far away, nate said he could call. sophie had said it wasn’t like he didn’t have the money to make flights out there every other week if he really wanted to, anyways, and besides, she’s always loved france. parker knows that eliot doesn’t like it because he’s afraid of something happening to sophie and nate and him not being there to save them. he’s afraid, like hardison was for the two of them that one time they almost-sorta-kinda saved the entire world. well. at the very least, they saved the city of d.c. parker didn’t understand exactly _why_ hardison was so afraid then (when he was all _wideeyesandpanicandbreathebreathebreathe_ ), until after, when they were driving home, when eliot was sleeping off his injuries in the back (though, really, hardison had muttered, how anyone slept through parker’s driving was a mystery). he’d told her then, that he was _afraid_ , he was afraid they would get sick, afraid the flu would take parker and eliot away from him. “i don’t want to be the last man standing,” he’d said. “i was never good at that.” she had taken his hand, squeezed it. she wouldn’t let him be the last man standing. she was always the one who was meant to stand in the ruins of the people she’d hurt. her brother. her foster parents. if she was the last one left, there was nothing more they could take from her. she remembers, suddenly, the story nate spun — where they all died. where she dropped hardison and she got shot and eliot got shot and they died, bloody in the van, hand in hand, and she thinks that would be okay too. the three of them together, dying together, that seems fitting. she wonders, now, if all three of them dying together scares him less. she thinks so, she thinks his fears have to do with being left behind, which she can _understand_ , even if she doesn’t share that fear (because she was alone for so long. it will hurt, but she can be alone again, she knows she can. it will hurt, but parker is used to pain) and she makes a mental note to ask hardison what he thought about nate’s story of the three of them dying hand-in-hand later.

but, parker thinks, she’s gotten off-track. things were different then, after that. she’d wake on the couch to find hardison and eliot sleeping next to each other, to eliot bringing hardison a new orange soda, to hardison pulling eliot in for a hug after jobs and the two of them _notlettinggo_ , the way she only used to see them do after hardison was saved from something serious.

and, again, things are different now. or — not so different. they’re the way they used to be, when they started off. eliot is standoffish and grouchy, and he won’t even let parker eat olives straight from the jar when he’s finishing up the hors d'oeuvres, like he usually does, and he pushes her off when she’s hugging him, and she doesn’t like it. she wishes he had let her eat those olives, now, because as much as she loves sophie and nate, their vows are so _long_ , and she’s getting hungry. she lays her head on eliot’s shoulder, because she’s really tired and hungry and sure, hardison is right there, on her other side, holding her hand, but he’s enraptured by the romantic aspect of the wedding, he really is, and she doesn’t want to bother him.

“i’m hungry,” she mutters, and eliot shoves her off lightly.

“should’ve had lunch,” he says, with a pointed look that she knows means “don’t do that.” she’s gotten pretty good at identifying the looks eliot gives her, over the years. she doesn’t know why he’s stopping her now. he usually lets her lay on him when she’s tired, unless he’s hurt, which he _isn’t_ , which she knows because their last job was a week ago and he didn’t get hurt then.

“i did eat lunch,” she whines. it’s true, and she is hungry, but she isn’t really _that_ hungry, and besides, this hunger is nothing compared to that one foster family who only fed her every three days, but she wants to make him squirm a little. he didn’t let her eat the olives, and he was almost done with the food, and she _loves_ olives, so it really wasn’t fair.

“shut up and watch the damn ceremony, parker,” he mutters, and parker huffs, turning back to the ceremony. nate and sophie are smiling at each other, like they’re the entire world to each other, and then they kiss. which is nice, if a bit squicky — in parker’s opinion, it’s like watching your mom and dad kiss when you’re a little kid. she knows nate and sophie aren’t her parents, but it kind of feels like it, sometimes.

and then, after that, it’s to the reception, and parker walks in and there’s a table of champagne, and she really does enjoy champagne (what can she say, sophie rubbed off on her) and she picks one up, downs it in one go, and then grabs another. hardison, by her side, adds, “hey, take it easy, girl.” she can hold her liquor, they both know this (parker remembers the one time the three of them all got really, really drunk off of all the cases of hardison’s too-sweet wine, and grins. he couldn’t even finish off his third glass. and hey, eliot held it together pretty well, but he’d passed out on the couch by the end of the night, and parker was still wide awake, and there was no one to cuddle with except an extremely drunk hardison, who was in fact in danger of vomiting on her). parker looks to eliot for confirmation that she is in fact, not the lightweight in this relationship, but he’s gone. huh.

parker finds him in the smaller tent with the food. “why’d you come back here?” parker asks, and he doesn’t look up at her.

“i’ve gotta make sure the food doesn’t get messed up,” he says, and they both know it’s a lie.

“come dance with me,” parker wheedles, from the doorway. hardison is still in the ballroom, trying eliot’s food and hacking the dj booth to play a song that hardison knows sophie and nate both hate, because, hey, it may be their wedding but he still wants to have a little fun. meanwhile, eliot doesn’t look up at parker, and she thinks it might be because she looks _really_ , _really_ good in this dress. sophie helped her pick it out, and sophie told her she looked really good in it, and so she knows it’s true because ever since that time they both got sort of tipsy, stole mary todd lincoln’s diamond and gold earrings and brooch from a museum in boston and then went back to sophie’s apartment and kissed a lot they haven’t lied to each other. that was fun, parker muses. it was a good night. she doesn’t love sophie _likethat_ , like the way nate loves her, but hey. a little bit of fun didn’t hurt either of them, and sophie wasn’t dating nate yet, so no harm done.

“no,” eliot says.

“why not?” parker presses. “why won’t you dance with me, eliot?”

he puts down his knife, and this is how parker knows she has his attention. “because,” he says, looking over at her. “because, parker. because you’re really, really hot in that dress, and you’re dating hardison, which makes you off-limits. and it doesn’t even matter if i think hardison looks _damn_ fine in a suit, which he does, because you’re both taken, and i’d really like it if you could both stop being so attractive, or at least stop toying with me, because it’s obvious that you’re both happier without me.” parker cocks her head. oh. that’s why he’s been so odd.

“hey, man,” hardison says, from behind parker. she doesn’t know when he crept up behind her. a waiter comes in from behind them and then sees the look on eliot’s face (it looks almost _likehisheartisbreaking_ , and parker doesn’t like it because he looks sad and she thinks he shouldn’t be sad) and then leaves, and hardison continues. “look. eliot. man. we thought you knew.”

“knew what?” eliot asks. he’s cutting something again, and parker thinks she can see tears in his eyes. he’s let his hair grow back a little bit, and it partially covers his eyes, especially when he’s leaning over like this.

“know that you’re — we’re — parker and i, we’re okay with this. with the three of us.” he puts his knife down again, and looks up at them.  
“what?” he says. there is a long silence.

“i love you,” parker says. she likes silences, but not this kind of silence, where everyone is quiet because someone has said something they can’t take back. “eliot, i — ” he comes over towards her, and hugs her, tightly, and normally parker isn’t exactly a fan of being touched when she doesn’t initiate it, but this is okay because she can hear the tears thick in his voice and then hardison hugs her, too, and it’s the three of them, it’s always been the three of them, and when they’re done hugging, and eliot is crying, and hardison is crying a little too, and parker leans in, and kisses eliot, for the first time, and it’s warm and soft and good and it feels _right_ , and her forehead is pressed against his, and he’s smiling and crying, and parker thinks she has never been more loved, and then eliot is pulling her in for a hug, cradling her against his chest as he reaches out for hardison’s hand.

“ _damnit_ , hardison,” eliot says, voice thick with tears. “why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“look, man, after that whole thing when sophie and nate did that over-dramatic goodbye, even though we still drove them to the airport the next week and they were at at our brewpub the entire time until then when they weren’t having yay-we’re-engaged sexy times, we thought — we thought you’d figured it out then.”

“obviously not, man,” eliot says, and they’re both crying and smiling and then sophie comes in, annoyance plastered across her features.

“look, i love that you’ve all finally gotten your issues worked out and that you’re all happy, but did you have to do it at my _wedding_?” she asks.

eliot grins. “sorry, soph.” sophie puts her hand on his face, smiling. that’s eliot, back again, because he and sophie have always been close, but only in the way that reminds parker of the middle school she attended for a week and the girls who were always together and wore best friend necklaces. she thinks she should steal the two of them some sometime. but like, the really nice kind. the gold kind. sophie likes gold. for that matter, parker thinks, who doesn’t like gold?

“i’m glad you’re happy, i really, really, am, but tara’s about to make her maid of honor speech, and i’d really love it if you would hold off on having sex on the makeshift counters we set up in this tent at least until she's done.” tara is only the maid of honor because parker didn’t want to be. sophie had asked her, and she was flattered, but she knew that tara had known sophie longer, and it would be better. besides, she never was any good at giving speeches, so parker is just a bridesmaid. which she’s fine with.

“yeah, alright,” hardison says, and they’re following sophie back into the ballroom tent, and eliot’s hand is in parker’s and his other hand is in hardison’s and parker thinks that this moment, right here, is how they were meant to be, because parker knows she is really, truly _happy_.


End file.
